I'm Always Serious
by TSOHG A MA I
Summary: "I'm sorry I called you a serial killer when I was five," she told him before she got out of the cab. He smiled at her. "I'm sorry I ever took you seriously." Ajin smiled back. "Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious." And that's how she became friends with the worst mass murderer the world would ever see. The world's greatest detective came after.
1. Chapter 1

Ajin Nou had always been a creature of impulse.

She knew it wasn't the most ideal character trait, and indeed, it had gotten her into a fair amount of trouble more than once. With an explosive temper and little compunction to hide it, she'd earned herself the unlikely reputation as Daikoku Academy's resident hothead along with the title ' _Bakuhatsu_ no Ajin'—which took most by surprise, because no one would guess at a first glance that such a blatantly feminine person, not to mention an exceedingly _small_ person at that, could harbor so much reckless anger. The Japanese, as a general rule, were not tall people. There were exceptions, of course, but Ajin, being half-Korean, was even shorter than your average pure-blooded Japanese. She was teased for both of these things mercilessly all throughout elementary and middle school… But she did her best to bear it with a sort of stoic dignity ingrained into her by her Japanese mother, tamping down on her knee-jerk instinct to let out her rage and wreck everything in sight…

That was until the accident, during the summer before her first year of High School…

On the first day of term, Ajin Nou walked into class a completely different person.

She no longer tolerated the bullying—not to herself, nor to others. Whenever someone was being harassed, it was like something just… _snapped_. A reptilian part of her brain took over, and Ajin's body took on a will of its own. At first, these moments were like black holes in her mind, awakening with swollen knuckles, standing over prone, whimpering forms, not knowing how she got there. But that dissociation didn't last long. Bullies were people who liked to hold power over others. She quickly decided she _hated_ people like that. Eventually, Ajin was willfully punishing those of her classmates who dared to torment her and others, and she did so with extreme prejudice.

To her dismay, this tactic did not make her many friends—not even among those she defended; indeed, they avoided her like the plague. And for the life of her, she just couldn't understand what she was doing _wrong_ … It got to the point where she was starting to feel anger for not just bullies, but everyone around her. It started with just little things that bugged her—an overly contrived laugh from a female student, petty, cliquish behavior in others—but the more she thought about it, little by little, she began to feel alienated from her peers. She was truly different from everyone else, she realized with a bitter taste in her mouth.

That's why _they_ avoided her.

But then there was Light Yagami…

Her adjacent seat neighbor was the _last_ person she ever expected to acknowledge her. He was always oh-so poised and courteous, with an easy smile, and well-liked by just about everyone who encountered him. Not only that, but he was the top student in their year, and just about every subject seemed to come easy to him. He had a good reputation, a good family, the son of a distinguished police chief… For all intents and purposes, he lived a charmed life, or so it seemed…and to her own self-disgust, Ajin couldn't help but hate him a little for that. Whenever he offered her that superficially polite smile, and the habitual 'Good-morning, Ajin-chan,' she'd return it with a bad-tempered sneer and turn away.

That day started the same as any other day.

Ajin sat down in her assigned seat next to Light Yagami and made an unpleasant face at his perfunctory greeting as per their tried and true routine. Though she generally hated his guts on principle, Ajin could admit she found comfort in the familiarity at least. She could do worse for a neighbor. Hell, she could be assigned next to Sudou, (that would just be cruel and unnecessary), so she counted her blessings. Light was never anything but distantly polite her. In other words, he treated her just like he treated _everyone else_ … And it annoyed her how desperately _grateful_ she was for that paltry act.

The day looked to be starting off as well as it could have, given the general circumstances of things. Ajin was called upon once during English class and was even able to impress her teacher. If there was one subject she genuinely excelled in, it would have to be linguistics. Ajin's dad lived and worked in America for a good part of his life before being transferred to Japan for work, and after he met Ajin's mom, they both ensured Ajin would grow up speaking a mixture of Japanese, Engilsh, _and_ Korean. She was no super genius, but it was nice to have an edge over her peers in at least one thing. Not only that, but languages truly fascinated her. To think that language influences how people think, how cultures develop, grow, connect… Her dad always said she'd be an Anthropologist, while her mother argued that she should set her sights on the UN as an interpreter for international government affairs. And though they bickered over her future a lot, they'd always agree on one thing in the end.

Ajin was going to accomplish _great_ things…

And though her parents were gone now, she still aimed to prove them right.

She had to.

Things started to go downhill that day when she spotted ominous clouds rolling in through the window beyond Light's head. They were the only two left in the classroom for lunch, as the students were given leave to visit other classes and the schoolgrounds during this hour. Ajin didn't see the point, seeing as everyone but Light appeared to be actively avoiding her, and the boy in question appeared too busy revising his notes to give anyone the time of day. But then he turned to look at her, misinterpreting the direction of her gaze for a moment before turning to the window and noticing the approaching thunderheads himself with a slight frown.

"Looks like a storm is coming…" he pointed out.

He didn't seem the type to banally state the obvious, or trade small talk over the weather, so it must have been some attempt at an actual conversation. But Ajin didn't like where this one was headed so she just shook her head at him with a sigh and returned to her tasteless packed lunch. Her aunt had sent it with her, and though she appreciated the effort the woman went to…it just didn't taste the same as the lunches her mom used to pack for her. And with that, her appetite all but evaporated…

She could feel Light Yagami's eyes on her periodically throughout the rest of lunch period.

The storm approached rapidly and by the time Maths Class had arrived, it was right over them. Their poor teacher was unable to hold the swiftly decaying attention of the class or make himself heard over the tittering of squealing and overexcited students. And if that didn't drown out his voice completely, the crashing of thunder did the rest. Ajin scowled and leaned back in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest when the girls of the class screeched and hugged each other in terror. One of them was actually _crying_. Their reactions were much too contrived and melodramatic to be genuine in her opinion.

"All this fuss over a little rain…" she muttered in disgust. "What is it with this mass hysteria all the sudden? This is high school. Grow-the-hell-up…"

The lights flickered, and Yuno Amamiya let out a deafening shriek.

Ajin Nou _flinched_.

Light Yagami noticed.

Losing her patience in classic _Bakuhatsu_ no Ajin form, she stood with a sudden screech of her chair and shouted, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Yuno Amamiya joined the other girl in useless tears.

It only served to fuel Ajin's anger and her scowl deepened by several degrees.

"Settle down, everyone, settle—" But Mikazawa-sensei's voice was cut off by yet another crack of thunder.

The girls let out a chorus of shrieks again, making Ajin want to pull out her hair in frustration as her anxiety steadily mounted.

"I told you all to SHUT UP!" she reiterated, balling her hands into fists. "It's just thunder! Don't act like you've never heard it before! It's not scary! Stop acting like a bunch of kids!"

It was then that Sudou—her arch enemy—stood from his seat, where he'd been watching the spectacle the girls were causing, utterly amused by it all. He swaggered over to stand in front of Ajin with an arrogant smirk.

"What's the matter with you this time, Nou?" That bastard. "If I didn't know better, I'd say _you're_ the one who's a scared kid."

Ajin's nails dug halfmoons into her palms so sharply she thought they might draw blood.

"Say that to me _one more time_ , bastard…" she grated out through her teeth. "See what happens."

Sudou leaned in with a shit-eating smirk and uttered one last thing.

" _Scaredy-cat_."

The power went out.

This time, the person who screamed wasn't Yuno Amamiya.

* * *

Sudou was sent to the nurse's office, covered in bruises with a split lip and an icepack affixed to his head with medical tape.

School was let out early due to the disruption of the students and the unruliness the power outage caused among them. What was more, the storm wasn't supposed to let up until at least midnight, and the school's director gave it up as a bad job. Ajin thought the whole thing was ridiculous, and by the slight, dissatisfied glint she caught in Light Yagami's eyes, she thought he might've agreed with her. But despite the early release, Ajin was still forced to stay behind and clean the classroom. Mikazawa-sensei was appalled at her behavior, as was just about everyone else.

Even _Ajin_ was appalled at herself.

She had no idea Sudou would get that kind of reaction out of her. But then…considering her parents had died in a storm not so dissimilar from this one, it wasn't so far fetched to postulate that she might be suffering from some form of post traumatic stress. She wasn't having nightmares or anything so drastic, but…the blackouts, the excessive violence, the impulse control issues… Hell, she'd bashed stupid Sudou over the head with a desk chair for something as infantile as name calling! For the first time since the accident, she wondered if there was something truly wrong with her…

She let out a sigh, clutching an eraser futilely, eyeing the chalk markings above her head while cursing her diminutive height. She could get a chair, but that was just degrading, not to mention too much effort for something she didn't even care about. She was just about to give up and leave when a familiar voice spoke up from behind her, making her flinch in surprise.

"Need a hand with that?"

Light Yagami offered up his signature polite smile, but Ajin was certain she spotted some mischievous amusement at her expense hidden in it. She wondered what his deal was today.

"You don't have to," she muttered, tossing the eraser over her shoulder to fall to the floor in a cloud of dust. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Sensei will be upset if you leave things like this…" Light verged as she went to grab her bag and vacate the premises.

"Like I care…" Without turning around, or setting down her bag, Ajin suddenly stopped, and asked, "What do you _want_ , Light?" At his innocent, shocked expression—which she didn't buy for second—she pointed out. "You've been acting weird all day. First, you try to strike up a conversation about the _weather_ of all things, with _me_ of all people, and now— _this_." She turned to look him in the eye then. "What _is_ this?"

Eyes narrowing slightly, Light leaned against the back of a desk with a casual air about him and said, "I was merely concerned… _You're_ the one who's been acting out of sorts lately."

Mouth twisting into a habitual scowl, Ajin muttered back, "You don't know a damn thing about me, Light Yagami."

"You might be surprised," he said as she began to walk away again, halting her again with his voice. "You might not remember, but we attended the same elementary school."

"You're right," she answered flatly. "I _don't_ remember."

"That's a shame," he murmured, and for a moment, she almost believed he meant it. "Because you made quite an impression on me—the first thing you said to me, particularly. I remember it very clearly. Like it was yesterday…"

She turned to face him fully, curiosity winning out over the desire to leave and go sulk somewhere.

"I have a terrible memory, Light," she pointed out, giving him a flat look. "I'd probably forget my own _name_ if my relatives didn't stop screeching it at me. So you're just going to have to elaborate."

He laughed a little, though the humor seemed a bit off as he divulged, "You were utterly convinced that I was going to become the world's worst mass murderer. There was nothing I could say that would change your mind about it either…" With a slight upturn to his lips, he added, "I just wanted to point out the irony that the one most resembling a murderer here…is you."

Ajin blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then an honest laugh bubbled up inside and burst out of her.

"Are you seriously being _petty_ right now?" She held her middle as she swayed slightly with offbeat mirth. "You're telling me you—you've really held a grudge for _all this time_?!"

"Well, it seems silly when you put it like that…" Light laughed as well, running a hand through his lighter hair. "It felt good to get that off my chest though."

Ajin laughed and laughed.

"You're seriously still mad about something I said when I was _five_?"

"It was a _very_ serious accusation," he insisted, amusement dancing in his eyes, though he kept his face comically stern. "I was hung up over it for months."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry!" She grinned, the picture of sincerity. "What can I _possibly_ do to make it up to you?"

The seriousness suddenly leaked back into his eyes as he suggested, "You could try being a little nicer to everyone… It's no good if they're all afraid of you. You won't make any friends that way."

He could have physically struck her, and it would've hurt less.

"You…you're right." Ajin's head hung low in silence for the longest moment. She bit her lip suddenly feeling the sting of tears. "I think… Light, I think there might actually be something really wrong…with me. I—" She couldn't believe she was about to admit this. Clutching a hand to her chest, as if she could actually _feel_ the wrongness inside, she murmured, "It just keeps getting _stronger_ …this _hate_ and-and the _anger_. I…I don't know if I can control it anymore."

Instead of seeming put off by this disturbing confession, Light drew closer, looking down at her even as she refused to look up at him.

"Who is making you so angry?"

Ajin shook her head slowly, finally realizing, " _I don't know_ …"

Gradually, she lifted her head as it dawned on her.

"It's…it's this _world_ …" Her voice wavered, her nails digging into her palms again, reopening the cuts that were already there. "Everything…it's all…" her eyes clenched shut as, true to form, the emotion exploded out of her, "it's all so _FUCKED UP!_ "

Her voice still rang out in the empty classroom as her knees wobbled and she collapsed into a nearby chair, her face falling into her hands. She inhaled sharply, and the breath stuck in her throat in a short, dry, hiccup-like sob. She felt like she was finally at the end of her tether.

"I-I don't know what to do anymore," she murmured brokenly, muffled into her palms. "They-they're gone and I…I'm still here. Everything's _fucked_ , and I… What am I…supposed to do now?"

She felt a hand come down softly on her head, carefully smoothing her hair back.

"They'd want you to keep doing your best, to try getting along with everyone else, right?"

She peered up at him through blurry eyes, insisting, "What does it matter? It still doesn't change anything!"

"I know." Light's hand returned to his side, and he turned to look out at the storm. When the lightning flashed, Ajin could've sworn she saw his eyes change color. "I know how you feel. This world…"

"It's fucked," she said again.

Light frowned.

"I was going to say, ' _rotten'_ …"

Ajin shook her head.

"You're one of those people who get hooked up on semantics, aren't you, Light."

He looked at her then and asked, "What happened to your parents, Ajin?"

She stared steadily at a scuffmark on the floor.

"Drunk driver. Head-on collision. Dead on impact." She pursed her lips once to try and control her expression and added in a shaky whisper, "We were going out to celebrate my birthday…" She looked at him, as if hoping he somehow had answers for her. "Why am I not dead?"

As it turned out, Light Yagami didn't have answers for her.

Instead, he held out his hand and said, "Come on. I called a cab earlier. I'll take you home."

She laughed shallowly.

She didn't bother telling him that a house, with relatives that tolerated her only out of a sense of obligation, did not constitute as a home. But Light let her hold his hand the whole way there, and it made the reality of things seem less daunting, somehow…

"I'm sorry I called you a serial killer when I was five," she told him before she got out of the cab.

He smiled at her.

"I'm sorry I ever took you seriously."

Ajin smiled back.

"Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious. You should've known better."

And that's how she became friends with the worst mass murderer the world would ever know.

The world's greatest detective came after.

* * *

 ** _'Bakuhatsu'_ means 'explosion' in Japanese.**

 **I hope you all bear with me on this one.**

 **It's gonna be a doozy.**

 **Just to clear things up, this isn't a Light/OC fic. That would be too easy—not nearly enough conflict—and may quite possibly verge into fluff at some point, and fluff is _not_ allowed in the main pairing of this story. Sorry, Light. Or maybe not. In many ways, Ajin is actually _worse_ than Misa, so he might be getting the better end of this deal when you think about it.**

 **This is a very morally ambiguous story, so if you're not into that kind of thing...then, come to think of it, why are you even into Death Note? That's kind of what it's all about, haha.**

 **(Doug, if you're reading this, please don't judge me. I had to do it. They _made_ me do it.)**

 **I love hearing what you all think!**


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few years, things slowly, but steadily improved for Ajin.

This was largely due in part to Light Yagami.

Ajin's mother always told her to choose her friends carefully, to surround herself with people she admired, who challenged her to be the best she could be. Her mother was a very critical, hard working person, and she had never really approved of Ajin's odd choice of friends, but she thought that if her mother had lived to meet Light Yagami, she would've changed her tune in an instant. Light just had that kind of effect on people. But what Ajin was most concerned about was the effect he had on _her_.

Light was truly someone she admired. And for the first time, Ajin realized what her mother had been trying to tell her all those years about choosing the right friends. People are a product of their environment, and the choice of who they surround themselves with ends up reflecting on them. A good friend can change your life in the most fundamental of ways. And the day Light entered her life, Ajin started to notice that change.

It started with how she felt.

When he said his usual 'good-morning' to her the day after the deluge, she no longer scowled and ignored it out of bitter spite. For once, she was actually relieved to see him. Being around him brought her a sense of…' _peace_ ' was the only thing she could call it. And as long as she focused on that feeling, she could silence the chaotic noise in her own head. Not even Sudou's taunts—and later, when Ajin began to blossom, his sexually suggestive slurs—bothered her when she was around Light. He exuded this calm, steady aura of maturity and focus that made every shitty thing in the world seem trivial and unimportant. Light shone perspective on the things that really mattered, and for that, Ajin would always admire him.

"So? What do you think?"

She bounced impatiently as he handed back her essay, her smile tainted with mischief.

"If I were a humbler person, I might be embarrassed," he finally said, then smirked. "' _The Person I Admire Most_ ,' huh? How exactly should I take that? Is this why you didn't want to work on it together over break?"

"No-no-no, don't get carried away—I really just want your opinion. Do you think it's safe to turn in like this?"

Light laughed.

"I think, when Tanaka-sensei gave us the topic, he meant someone more along the lines of a historical figure…"

"Hey, he said it could be _anyone_ —you heard him."

"And out of all the people in the world, you chose _me_?" he laughed again.

"Well, _yeah_. Is it really that surprising?" Ajin laughed with him.

"You're into political science, so I thought you might've chosen the Prime Minister, or a famous justiciar…" he verged.

"Ugh, are you kidding?" Ajin groaned. "You know I hate politicians!"

"I keep telling you, in order to achieve your dream of changing the world, you're going to have to start thinking about it," Light admonished her. "It doesn't matter how much you hate them. In fact, that might actually work out in your favor…"

"Alright, alright! If it'll get you off my back, I'll think about it…" Ajin sighed as they stopped at a train crossing. "To be honest though, I think I might be more suited to being an activist than a politician, Light."

"And you call me the one obsessed with semantics? Isn't that more or less the same thing?" he pointed out. "You'll need a Pol-Sci degree either way."

"Why do you always have to be right…?" she muttered, feeling the daunting prospect of the task ahead pressing on her shoulders. "Sometimes I think it would be easier to just say, ' _Fuck you, world_.' Everyone keeps destroying it anyway. They're not going to stop, no matter what I do…"

"It would be easier," Light agreed, then gave her a significant look as the train passed them by. "But the world is full of people who take the easier path over the right one. Isn't that why the world is in this state to begin with?"

Ajin considered his words thoughtfully and gave him a decisive nod.

"As usual, you're right again…" She smiled at him, though it didn't entirely reach her eyes. "Sometimes I just lose faith, you know?"

He reached over as if to pat her on the shoulder, but changed directive mid-reach and mussed her hair, something that clearly illustrated the height difference between the two.

"Rather than faithless, I'd say you're just _lazy_."

"I am _not_!" She shoved his hand away with a startled laugh.

"Then what university are you planning on attending?" he challenged with a knowing look in his eye.

Rubbing her arm sheepishly, Ajin wondered, "Do I really have to, Light…?"

He sighed in a rare show of exasperation.

"What do you think you can do without an education?" At her downcast look, he persisted, "You're not an idiot. We both know that. When you bother to study, your grades are on par with mine."

"I just don't think I'm cut out for academia…" Ajin admitted glumly. "Besides, that's only when I study with _you_."

"Then, by all means, _do so_ ," he argued. When she looked about to protest, he went on, "You know I have cram school on the week days, but my door's always open on the weekend. It's not too late to prepare for the To-oh entrance exams. You could definitely make it in if you do your best."

"I-I couldn't put you out like that, Light!" Ajin shook her head wildly. "You already do enough by putting up with me as it is…"

"I don't 'put up with you,'" he answered with a good-natured smile. "We're friends, right?"

Ajin felt a surge of incredibly sappy emotion well up in her chest at the oh-so casual statement, and she bit her lip to try and keep it from surfacing in her expression. It probably didn't do her a load of good, because when it came to her, Light was practically _psychic_. He knew how touchy she was about the subject of friends, and he wielded it like a nuclear weapon. In the years following their reacquaintance Ajin still hadn't made any friends. Sure, she was no longer known as 'Explosion Girl.' She talked to people, and sometimes she even went out with a few acquaintances, but the only person she really shared a connection with was Light. She _craved_ that sort of connection, and she knew Light blatantly used that at times to manipulate her. Like now, for instance.

She nearly rolled her eyes when she figured out what he was about.

He couldn't have just outright _said_ he didn't want them to be separated after high school. But that just wasn't Light's style… He just _had_ to approach everything through twisting and tugging at emotions and getting people to do the things he wanted by making them think it was what _they_ wanted. But at least his intentions were sincere. The thought of Light as a duplicitous schemer was downright _terrifying_ … If they ever ended up getting into politics together, Ajin would be sure to never make an enemy out of him. It wouldn't be good for her life expectancy.

"Of course we're friends," she answered him with a smile.

"Then I'll see you on Saturday," he insisted. "Is your apartment okay? It's quieter than my house. We can order takeout from that place you like."

It was just like him to invite himself over. But Ajin didn't mind. He was right. It _was_ quiet at her apartment; sometimes, _too_ quiet… She'd only lived on her own for around a year and a half, now—ever since she turned sixteen. She was now almost eighteen, and she still wasn't sure what to think of it… Sure, she supposed it was better than living with her Aunt Suzume and her fiancée—now ex-fiancée after what he did to Ajin—but her aunt wasn't a bad person. They sometimes met up to go shopping or eat lunch in cute little cafes where Ajin would laugh and promise her aunt that she would make her cakes at home that looked even cuter and tasted far better at a fraction of the cost. Suzume had improved leaps and bounds from the kneejerk reaction that was 'blame Ajin,' and though she could no longer handle living in the same household together after the what happened with her fiancée, at least she made an effort to be family to her. Which was more than she could say for her grandparents, who were quite wealthy and paid for her housing and schooling, but otherwise refused to have anything to do with her—a child born from a union they never approved of.

She wondered if they'd approve of her if she passed the To-oh entrance exams with Light…

"Okay." She smiled. "You had me convinced at 'takeout.' Saturday it is." With a growing feeling of excitement, she added, "Oh! I'll make brownies!"

Laughing, Light suggested, "If To-oh doesn't work out, maybe you should join a trade school. Open up your own bakery."

"Plan B!" Ajin cheered, now thoroughly in a good mood as they crossed onto Academy grounds. "Oh, and if that doesn't work out, I could open up a craft store—so many possibilities. It's nice to have hobbies…" At that thought, she looked to Light, who appeared to have completely zoned out at her rambling, and asked, "Hey, Light, whatever happened with Tennis Club? Are you not going anymore? You were really good."

"I had to quit." He frowned a little. "Cram school is more important… I miss it a little though."

"I'm sure they'll have clubs at Uni…" Ajin mused, and grinned. "I bet you could go on to nationals!"

"Then you better pass the exam so you can cheer me on after your Pol-Sci class." He smiled at her, but his eyes were firm when he told her, "Take this seriously, okay? I know you can do it if you try, Ajin."

"Light, shouldn't you know by now?" She smiled back mischievously. "I'm _always_ serious."

"That…" he replied, with decisively narrowed eyes, "is a _lie_."

Ajin threw her head back and laughed.

* * *

Despite the vast improvement in her disposition, Ajin Nou still fought a daily battle with Impulse.

Whenever Sudou said something stupid, it took a herculean effort not to drop a desk on him. Light would watch her whenever she gripped the edges of her chair, her knuckles going white with restraint, and send her an admonishing look every now and again. Usually this was enough to reign herself in. But even that couldn't stop her from bashing the jerk in the head with a textbook when he started bothering Ryouchin for money again. Ajin liked Ryouchin, but he caved way too quickly under pressure. He needed to learn how to stand up for himself better, and she told him so. Loudly.

He didn't particularly appreciate it.

"You're too overbearing," Light told her when she complained. "I know you do it because you care, but there's such a thing as caring _too much_ …"

"It's like Ryouchin is _asking_ Sudou to take his money! I can't just sit here and ignore it!" she muttered back furiously, lowering her voice as Tanaka-sensei, their English teacher, entered the room.

"Sometimes you need to let people make mistakes," Light insisted. "It's how they learn."

Completely dissatisfied with that explanation, but unable to argue as Tanaka-sensei started his lecture, Ajin slumped in her seat with her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest, a brooding scowl fixed upon her lips.

"People are _stupid_ ," she hissed lividly under her breath, evoking a soft snort of amusement from her neighbor.

"Your sincerity is always refreshing," he muttered back, casually flipping open his notebook.

"I am here to please," Ajin snarked and did the same, giving Yuno Amamiya a dirty look when she looked back, curious to see what the two of them were snickering about. At the expression on Ajin's face, she winced and quickly turned back around.

No one really knew what to make of the odd friendship between her and Light. It had received much scrutiny and criticism over the years, but most seemed to come to the conclusion that Light had taken her on as a charity case. It was probably true, but Ajin refused to accept that. It made her stomach churn when she thought about it, so she simply didn't—not unless she was feeling particularly masochistic, anyway. It was one of her worst dreads that Light had befriended her solely out of pity that rainy day not so long ago…

"If everyone would please copy down the agenda on the board in English," Tanaka-sensei instructed, "I'm going to come around and collect the essays all of you should have completed over break."

Sudou let out a loud groan, which everyone ignored.

Tanaka-sensei picked up each essay, pausing every so often to make a few comments here and there. Ajin had always liked Tanaka-sensei. He was more engaging than most of their teachers, and always called on her, even though he knew her English was nigh on exceptional. Even Light liked to practice with her sometimes, as it was the only subject she tended to surpass him in every once in a blue moon.

When Tanaka-sensei arrived at her desk to furtively collect her essay, he stopped for a moment, and asked wryly in English, " _Ms. Nou, I'm afraid you might have confused your essay with a love confession. Should I pass this on to Mr. Yagami for you?_ "

"Sensei!" she objected, feeling her face blushing furiously. "You're terrible! I worked really hard on that!"

"You're so earnest," he laughed, eyes scanning the first page with gleaming amusement. "Such a pure, honest heart you have, Ms. Nou. Mr. Yagami is quite lucky, I think."

Ajin's head met her desk, feeling utterly humiliated as she covered her burning ears, moaning, "Light, make him _sto-o-op_."

"I told you it would end up like this…" was all he said, unable to disguise a smirk.

"I hate you. You're the worst," she muttered at him as Tanaka-sensei moved on, chuckling at them both.

"That's not what your essay says," Light hummed in satisfaction.

"The _absolute_ worst…" she went on, repeating it under her breath like a mantra for a good minute or two.

"Everyone," Tanaka-sensei addressed the class after he was done collecting the last of the essays, "please turn your textbooks to page 116."

Although the class started out lighthearted and energetic, it started to lag somewhere around mid-period to the point where Ajin was almost drooling onto the palm she was leaning on, distorting the elasticity of her cheek unattractively. This was unusual for English class, as she normally found the subject quite engaging. Perhaps it was the subject matter this time, which happened to be passages from the bible. She'd never been one to hold much reverence towards religion. In fact, very much the opposite, she held many of them in purist contempt… Religion made people do crazy things—such as starting _wars_. Not only that, but people use religion as a cop out for the horrible acts they commit, all in the name of the 'Almighty.' In the face of that, who cares who gets hurt? That's not to say _all_ of religion was bad…there wasn't really anything wrong with the thing in and of itself.

As usual, it was _people_ that made it so terrible.

And people—as Ajin knew all too well—are _stupid_ …

She was actually grateful that Tanaka-sensei called on Light instead of her this time. The scripture sounded like drivel in her ears, and the lines all blurred together until she realized she'd been reading the same one, over and over, for at least five minutes… Light had a nice voice though; it cut through the distracting chatter going on around them, and as he translated the next verse, it was a lot easier for her to follow along.

The next section of the textbook was slightly more interesting, having to do with the extinction of various species of animals located worldwide, but this was dampened by the fact that Tanaka-sensei opted to read this aloud for himself. He was a good teacher, but his English had the rather unfortunate tendency to drone and lacked emotive inflection in Ajin's opinion. In consequence, she felt nearly bored to tears, despite her fondness for the man, and so she looked over to see what Light was doing.

This was the moment both their lives changed irreversibly.

Because _both_ sets of eyes were drawn unerringly passed the window to a black shape plummeting from the sky…

Ajin felt her insides plummeting in time with it, and at the center of her being…Impulse _wrenched_ at its chains so violently she actually felt her heart skip a beat. Breaking out in a cold sweat, her stomach _twisted_ , and she felt sick, sick _dread_ sink its curved hooks in for reasons she simply could not name. Vertigo gripped her strongly, sending a sudden wave of nausea clawing up her throat. Her hands were gripping the seat of her chair for dear life—a rollercoaster with no seatbelts—because she was terrified, that if she were to let go…

All at once, it was too much.

In an instant, all rational though fled Ajin's mind.

It was just like her blackouts in freshman year…only so much worse. Here, she was completely awake and aware…but she had _no control over her body_. It was like standing outside of herself, watching some stranger take control in slow motion and fling herself passed a shocked Light towards the window, fumbling for the latch and, once she got it open, attempting to _throw herself out of it_.

It was lucky Light had such good reflexes, because he caught her around the middle before she could go and do something completely suicidal.

Oddly enough, it wasn't his words of reason, or his abrupt shaking of her shoulders that brought her out of the fog, but Yuno Amamiya's unfortunately distinctive, high-pitched screech of panic…like screeching tires on tarmac...

Good God, but she _hated_ that noise.

" ** _SHUT UP!_** "

With the wide-eyed looks of her teacher and classmates, Ajin suddenly felt awash with shame and embarrassment at the momentary lapse.

She absolutely _refused_ to look Light in the eye when she lied, "I thought I saw a spider…"

"Holy crap, Nou," Sudou let out a loud guffaw, breaking the painful silence with his usual mockery. "You're so terrified of a little bug that you'd really…? Hah! I've said it a thousand times, but you really are a scaredy-cat."

For the first time ever, she blatantly ignored Sudou's jibes, instead, turning to bow to Tanaka-sensei and recite the mechanical apology: "Please forgive me for the interruption. It won't happen again."

"Er…" Tanaka-sensei hesitated, "Would you like to go to the nurse's station, Ms. Nou?"

Ajin was about to refuse when she was gripped yet again by a surge of Impulse.

"Yes, actually. I think I might've suffered a minor heart attack."

That got a couple nervous laughs out of a few, but due to the inflectionless cadence to her voice, no one was quite sure if she was serious or not. This was usually the case with much of Ajin's humor, but somehow, she felt as if she had no control over the words coming out of her mouth.

"I can take you—" Light began, but Ajin cut him off right away.

"No thanks."

She still refused to look at him.

For reasons she couldn't fathom, the thought of seeing his face at that very moment _petrified_ her. She didn't know what she might do if she met his eyes. She had absolutely no _fucking clue_ what she was capable of right then. She felt, in that instant, like a cat on a hot tin roof—ready to leap—a feral creature that could snap at any moment.

And so, without looking back, Ajin grabbed her things and made a dash for the door.

The sound of her inside slippers slapping down the empty halls perfectly matched the pace of her erratic heartbeat. She was caught up completely in the current of Impulse at this stage and her feet didn't even waver an inch in their course, not to the nurse's station, but straight to her shoe locker. The thought of any consequences for leaving early didn't cross her mind for an _instant_ as she frantically twisted in the code for her padlock. It was honestly a miracle she didn't just leave in her indoor shoes.

Still on autopilot, she beelined to exit the campus, but not before crossing the courtyard.

She stopped before a black book lying on the ground…

…and slowly knelt to pick it up.

Shaking inexplicably, tremors running up and down her body, she slowly turned it over in her hands.

The words scrawled on the front of it were like an invisible punch to the gut.

Gradually, of their own accord, Ajin's eyes ascended towards the third-floor window…and locked with russet brown.

In the next moment, she turned and _fled_ like the hounds of Hell were nipping at her heels.

* * *

 **So...yeah. That happened.**

 **Ajin may be losing it. Just a little bit.**

 **And so early in the game too...**

 **The day started out so well.**

 **This is why we can't have nice things.**

 **Et cetera et cetera... IN OTHER NEWS:**

 **MUCH THANKS TO pastelstripes AND bookbabe711 FOR REVIEWING!**

 **You guys are so cool... *tears up* I love you people.**


	3. Chapter 3

Ajin had been debating on whether or not to see a shrink for _years_.

In all honesty, she really probably should have.

If the day had proven anything, it was that there was something _severely_ wrong. There was a fundamental screw loose somewhere in her brain, and the hole it left behind was a great, ugly black pit of horrors inside of her. Something in that darkness called to her, whispered sibilantly of forbidden fruit from a tree of knowledge that promised her the secrets of the universe. She was afraid that if she examined it too closely it would swallow her up, and she'd never see the light of day again. She didn't know how long it had been there, but something told her it had been with her since the very beginning…

She had a good deal of difficulty remembering a lot of her childhood—the bump on the head she'd taken from the car accident that killed her parents really did a number on her—but from what Light had recounted from their time in elementary school, she'd always been a little odd. They weren't friends back then. Indeed, according to Light, Ajin had done everything in her power to avoid him, utterly convinced that he would _kill her_ for whatever childish reason. Even back then she'd been impulsive and prone to rash decisions… But Ajin got the feeling that she was missing something _big_ …something much bigger than herself. Something she couldn't control.

(She wanted to hide from it).

Nevertheless, her gut instinct told her that whatever it was had _everything_ to do with the black book nestled innocuously next to her English textbook.

Ajin's heartbeat hadn't slowed down even a little since she picked it up. Her breathing was shallow and erratic as she cut through the crowds of the city, her hands gripping her schoolbag like a lifeline. She was afraid to imagine what would happen if someone attempted to mug her on the way back to her apartment. And it wasn't out of fear for her own life, but of her _own_ _actions_. Her hard-won self-control was _shot_. There was no telling what she might do right then, and the unpredictability was _terrifying_. She needed a safe space, somewhere away from the judging eyes of others where she could calmly attempt to uncoil the twisted knots her insides had worked themselves into. Breathing exercises. Yes. That could work.

Clearly, she was suffering some sort of anxiety attack, but for the life of her, she just couldn't understand this fear. A little black book? How ridiculous. That didn't make any sense. But as she finally locked the door behind her and set her newest acquisition upon the low coffee table in her living room, she could only draw back and stare at it in silent apprehension. There was an ominous… _power_ about the thing, like a looming, sentient shadow that peered malevolently at her from some deep suffocating void. Her fears had a quote from Nietzsche ringing hauntingly in her thoughts…

"… _and when you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you…_ "

Just touching it sent chills up her spine.

Reading the title on the front of it was worse.

"Death…note…" she whispered aloud, barely breathing.

She felt the strongest urge to fling it out the window and forget the thing existed.

 _No, burning it would be better_ , her mind supplied.

Why, she didn't know, but Instinct and Impulse were in alignment on this one.

Still, she could not make a single move to touch it again.

Closing her eyes tightly and kneading the resulting crinkles out of the flat bridge of her nose, she let out a sigh.

This wasn't helping her calm down at all.

"Sugar," she concluded with a faraway voice. "Eggs. Flour. Cocoa."

Yes, this was surely the cure for her problems.

And with that, Ajin got up off her knees and headed for the kitchen.

Baking always helped her relax. There was a sort of nostalgia in something that she and her mother used to enjoy doing together. She twisted up her long black hair—which she usually kept in pigtails at the nape of her neck—into a clinically tight bun to assure none of it found its way into the batter. Next, she tied on her mother's old flowery apron with the kind of reverent, methodical poise one can only attain from prolonged, single-minded repetition. The familiarity in the process was a comfort, grounding her in a world that seemed to be spinning much too fast when gravity was in short supply. She made sure to scrub her hands with an almost surgical diligence, from the tips of her square-shaped nails, all the way up to her elbows.

' _The process is just as important as the ingredients_ ,' her mother always said, which she started pulling out of the cabinets, lining them up one by one.

Last, she plugged her iPod into her speakers and hit 'shuffle' on her favorite playlist.

Avenged Sevenfold's _Afterlife_ warbled out in a brooding intro of cello and violin, which transitioned seamlessly into the violent contrast of sliding rifts the band was known for. But no sooner had she reached a point of Zen, stirring her ingredients together while swaying to heavy metal, than her phone begin to vibrate beneath her bra strap. Her eyes snapped open and her anxiety returned in force.

Setting her mixing bowl down with a clatter, she fumbled for the caller ID, flipping the phone open with trembling fingers. She instantly let out a sigh of relief, hitting the green 'accept' button.

It wasn't Light.

Now, the real question was why the thought of him calling, let alone seeing him at school the next day, filled her with such primal dread…

"Hi, Auntie," she said into the receiver, putting a raincheck on her self-doubt. "What's up?"

"I told you," the woman hissed loudly on the other end of the phone, "call me 'Onee-chan'!"

Ajin's Aunt Suzume was approaching her mid-thirties, and she was _really_ freaking out about it…

"You're not old," Ajin replied, "but I'm still not calling you that. It's ridiculous."

"Such a stubborn kid…"

"Yep. Sorry," she apologized, but didn't really feel sorry at all. "So, what's going on?"

"Oh!" Suzume gasped, as if only just remembering why she called, "You'll never guess!"

"Hmm…let me think," Ajin answered sarcastically, and ejected, "You got a new boyfriend."

"How do you _always_ know?"

"Because you _always_ call and tell me."

"I literally _just_ called you."

"I know. And you _always_ say I'll never guess, but you _always_ get so excited that you give yourself away," she explained dryly. "So…what does he do?"

"You don't even want to know his name, or what he looks like?" Suzume sounded utterly put out.

"You know it's the first question Gram and Gramps are gonna ask…" Ajin told her in a flat voice. "They don't care about anything else. That, and…please, at least tell me he's Japanese."

"He is!" Suzume attested, almost sounding defensive.

"That's one bullet dodged then…" Ajin muttered darkly, contempt for her grandparents' prejudice welling in her chest. "So, what else?"

"We-e-ell…" Suzume divulged, "He's a few years younger than I am…"

"How much is 'a few years'?"

"Umm…I think…um…" Suzume hesitated before giggling out a sheepish, "…maybe ten?"

There was a long silence on the line.

"You're like one of those old men who go out and buy a Ferrari they can't afford just so they can feel young and exiting again," Ajin assessed clinically. "But don't misunderstand. I'm not judging you at all."

"That's exactly what you're doing, you brat!"

"So?" she asked again. "What does he do?"

"Hmph, he's a junior detective with the NPA, I'll have you know."

"Oh, that sounds good. Light's Dad is with the NPA too, and he makes really good money. Maybe Gram and Gramps will let you keep this one."

"You make it sound like I'm a kid who dragged home a mangy stray…"

"To Gram and Gramps, he might as well be," Ajin reminded her. "You know how high their standards are."

"Yeah, yeah…" Suzume let out a huff and muttered, "It sure must be nice to have _your_ romantic life all sorted out…"

Ajin rolled her eyes.

"For the last time, _Light is not my boyfriend_."

"I don't believe it!" Suzume declared, giggling mischievously. "Two good looking kids like you? There's _no way_ there isn't something going on there—and even if there isn't, there's going to be. I have a sense for these things."

" _No_ ," Ajin shut her down sharply, appalled as ever by the thought of… _that_ …with _Light_. "Just _no_."

"Oh, but why _not_?!" Suzume whined like a child, a habit of hers that never failed to annoy Ajin. "It just makes sense! He's the top student at Daikoku Private Academy, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"And his father is a police chief, right?"

"That's true, but I—"

"And he's polite, and well-spoken, and good-looking—"

"Yes, yes, and yes, but I don't see what any of it has to do with—"

"Mom and dad would just _adore_ him. _And_ you get along—he's the perfect match for you, Acchin!" Suzume gushed with way too much enthusiasm. "If they knew about your relationship, they might even do something old-fashioned and arrange something with his family—"

"Which is _exactly_ why they're not going to find out," Ajin growled like a savage. She went on to firmly insist, "This is _my_ life. No one gets to decide how I live it! What I do or don't do, who I hang out with, who I get to _love_ —it's none of their business!"

There was a heavy silence over the line, and something that sounded like a wet sniff.

"My god, you sound just like Junko…" Suzume choked out in a voice close to tears. "You're so brave. Just like _Aneki_. She-she never let them tell her what to do. She always— _always_ —followed her heart, no matter what. I'm…" She sniffed again. "I don't think I've ever been that strong…"

"It's easy," Ajin said. "You just need to look them in the eye…and tell them to _fuck off_."

"That's not easy at all!" Suzume wailed back.

"Yes. It is. Especially for you. Listen to me—" Ajin persisted, determined to get through to her aunt, needing her to understand that, "—you're a grown-up. You've got a good job, a good education, a good head on your shoulders. You make good money, you have your own place, you pay your own bills— _you don't need them_. What you _do_ need is to let them know that if they still want a place in _your life_ …then they need to _lay—the_ _fuck—off._ "

"But…they're my _parents_ ," Suzume said softly. "Don't you think that's…kind of cold?"

"It doesn't matter. Once again, it's _your life_ ;" Ajin repeated, her voice hard and uncompromising, "you only get one of those. Don't you think you should be living it for _you_ , not _them_?"

"I…I…" the woman trembled out, seeming to come to some sort of epiphany as she admitted, "You're _right_ … But-but what do I _say_ to them? I can't-I can't just say…what _you_ said—"

"No, you're right. They expect rudeness from me—I'm half-Korean and half-savage for all they're concerned. But you're their daughter. If you walked up with your guns out like me, they'd probably declare all out war on you, and that wouldn't be good for the surrounding countryside," Ajin joked, trying—unsuccessfully—to raise Suzume's spirits. "No, go and show them your stray detective, and if they approve, that's great. But if they _don't_ ," she cautioned, "don't get worked up about it. Just politely, and _assertively_ let them know that it's _your_ choice, not theirs, and that they're going to have to learn to live with that. What's the worst thing that can happen?"

"They could _disown_ me, like Junko," Suzume replied, sounding for all the world as if she'd just announced doomsday.

"And?" Ajin snorted. "So what? Do I need to say it again? You've got a good job, a good education, a good head on your shoulders. You pay your own bills—what do you need them for again? Validation? So if they don't give you that, what good are they? They clearly know nothing about love. They Hooked you up with a creepy guy who didn't even care about you and look how well that turned out for _both_ of us." At Suzume's hesitant silence, Ajin added, "Did my mom ever seem unhappy to you after she had her big standoff with Gram and Gramps?"

"I…" Suzume began as if to argue, but trailed off and concluded, "No… No, she seemed happier than ever…"

"I think you have your answer then," Ajin said quietly. "I believe in you, Auntie Suzu."

With another sniff, Suzume remarked, "You've always been mature for your age, Acchin, but when did you get so wise?"

Ajin snorted.

"Wise? Yeah right. Trust me, when it comes to my own problems, I'm the opposite of wise," she pointed out. "That's when Light comes in handy. He's my human compass. _Not_ my boyfriend. Got it?"

"Sure. Whatever you say…" Suzume giggled, making Ajin roll her eyes yet again. She still didn't believe her. But she didn't have time to argue, because, true to form, Suzume jumped into her next topic like whiplash. "Say, later tonight, I was thinking…would you like to have dinner with me and my boyfriend?"

Ajin arched a brow at that.

It had been a long time since Suzume had introduced Ajin to any of her boyfriends. There must have been something really special about this one. Still, wouldn't that make Suzume even more reluctant to let him meet her? She'd been reasonably paranoid about it ever since she caught her creepy fiancée trying to feel Ajin up when she'd gone to get groceries one afternoon. She'd forgotten her wallet though, and happened to run into Light on her way back, who was on his way to meet up with Ajin for a study session. Naturally, neither one of them was pleased when they walked into the apartment to find Ajin frantically fending off the man with a fire poker. She'd already gotten one good whack in, but once Light figured out what was going on, the creep really got the stuffing beat out of him. Playing all that tennis must have really built up his upper body strength, because Light had the guy KO'd in less than ten seconds flat. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so angry or terrifying before that moment, nor had she since.

Suzume didn't handle it well.

 _At all_.

Long story short, Ajin spent the night over at Light's house, and once Mr. Yagami found out what happened, he started hauling people into the station for questioning. It was this huge, unpleasant ordeal that Ajin _really_ didn't like to think about. Neither did Suzume, who felt extremely ashamed for her reaction, and had even asked Ajin to move back in with her a few times out of guilt. But Ajin knew she didn't really mean it, the initial blame, nor the retraction of her banishment. Suzume had never exactly been prepared to take in a problem child—or _any_ child for that matter—and Ajin didn't blame her. After all was said and done, they had a pretty good relationship for the most part, in her opinion, and she didn't like the idea of rocking the boat in any way. What if she went to dinner and Suzume's boyfriend ended up being another creep? Things could get _weird_ …

"And be your third wheel? No thanks. Awkward."

"You could bring Light-kun and make it an even double!" Suzume suggested enthusiastically. "Hey, didn't he say he wanted to be a detective too? He and Touta-kun have so much in common!"

"I don't think _anyone_ has much in common with Light…" Ajin muttered back distractedly.

"Hmm…what do you mean by that? Light-kun's a very nice boy—" Suzume gasped suddenly. "Did you two have a fight?!"

"Huh? What? No!" Ajin denied, her thoughts racing quickly. "I…I meant… I don't really know why I said that just now… Today has just been… _weird_."

"So you _did_ have a fight," Suzume deduced with certainty. "A lover's spat…?"

"No! We didn't—ugh, you know what? Never mind." Ajin shook her head in exasperation. "You are _far_ too interested in my very _platonic_ relationship with my classmate."

"Well, surely you must have _someone_ you like," her aunt pressed. "I mean, it's just natural—a girl your age should want things like that…"

"I'm just not focused on that stuff, Auntie…" Ajin sighed. "I guess I understand why you're concerned, and I appreciate it—really, I do. But there's really no one I'm interested in right now."

"What kind of guy do you like?" Suzume persisted, making Ajin nearly groan in frustration. "Come on, tell me! I'm really curious about Acchin's type."

"I don't _have_ a—" Ajin broke off and shook her head, knowing the denial tactic didn't work with her aunt. "Okay, how about I cut you a deal? I'll tell you all about my type, but _only_ if you promise—and I mean I want your _solemn vow_ —that you won't try to set me up with anyone."

"Oh, you're no fun!" Suzume cried dramatically, and huffed, " _Fine_ … I'm really too curious. I have to know."

Ajin sighed.

"You're probably only curious because I seem like I'm indifferent to the opposite sex."

"Exactly!"

"Well, you're wrong; it only seems like that because…well…" Ajin leaned back against the counter and blew her bangs away from her eyes in frustration. "Everyone is so _boring_ …"

"Wait… _huh_?"

"Even Light's boring when he's not being a teenaged genius, and helping the police catch bad guys," she added, utterly put out by this fact, "And all the other guys in my class are either dickheads, dimwitted, or just… _normal_. It's boring, the way everyone always tries to fit in. I like someone who stands out—not because they're trying to be cool, or anything, but just because it's who they are. The kind of guy I like isn't afraid to be who he is, and doesn't apologize for it. So," she laughed a little, "in not so many words, I guess you could say my type is someone who's a little weird, but at least he's honest about it…"

"Weird, but honest…huh," Suzume mused thoughtfully. "I don't know how easy it's going to be to find someone like that in Kanto…"

"Hey! You _promised_ you weren't going to set me up with anyone!" Ajin objected.

"Hey, yourself! I didn't promise anyone anything!"

"Ugh! You cheater! I'm hanging up now!"

"Wait! What about dinner with—"

And with that, Ajin snapped the phone shut, washed her hands again—do you have any idea how filthy mobile phones get?—and continued working on her brownies.

Despite how aggravating talking to her aunt could be, it did have the added benefit of being distracting enough to make her almost completely forget about her problems. She'd take the pan of brownies over to Suzume's apartment later when she was having dinner with her boyfriend, leave them in front of her door, ring the bell, then run like hell, she decided. Ding-dong-ditch with brownies was much nicer than a flaming bag of shit, after all… It was also a way to show she cared without having to meet Suzume's boyfriend as far as she was concerned. Not to mention it kept her busy, and her thoughts far away from ominous notebooks…

Once she got back at around 8:00 though…all bets were off.

Ajin stared at the notebook.

The notebook stared back.

Finally, she gathered up the cojones to do, well…something.

Reasoning that it was better to do it quick, like ripping off a band-aid, Ajin flipped it open and quickly drew back as if she'd burnt herself on a hot oven, or been given a love-bite from a radioactive spider… She felt like an absurd parody of primitive man, poking at something strange and unfamiliar—and _insanely dangerous_ , her mind added—with a stick. Part of her was utterly exasperated at her own caution. It was just a stupid book. And as far as she was concerned, books couldn't hurt you unless they were heavy enough to break something—like the ones she often threw at Sudou when he said mean things.

This book was nothing like those books. In fact, it was no bigger or thicker than a college ruled notebook. It might have even _been_ a college ruled notebook at some point in time, but part of her, the part that came from that yawning, black pit inside her, told her this was far from the case… And the first several pages of the notebook illustrated that fact very clearly—in plain English.

* * *

 **H́ͤ͗ͧ̾̃̉o̷̊̓̊̅ͣ͆W̢͇̲̜̮̱͚̭ͧͯ̿͌ ͖̻͉̯̽̀̄̑͢t̠̻̰͔̜͕̂o̮̦̗̹̦̫̿̆͞ ̡͍̲̖̘̮̲͂U̟̣̪̖̻̳ͩ͊ͬ̒ͩ̾ͅȘ̥̳̼̻̾̀ͫ̽̈́͟E͙͍̎͠ ͔̻ͬ̊̓͌̅ͪ͟Ḭ̳̗̳͂ͯ͆ͅt̸͎ͣ̾ͧ͒̋**

 **·̮͇̥͓̜͍͒T̜̼͕̦̺̜̔͋͆̚h͉̻̠̥̩͖̽̿̇̎̂ͪe͙̝͖͕̊̉̐͆̅ ̣̩̟̹͈̱͊͊̈́̌̆ḧ̭̌̽u̙̦͙̺͆ͧ͊m͈̟̬̹̟͗̽̒ͩ̇ͪả̧̻̯̻͉̠̠̱̈́ͬ̓̎͗n̤͎̓ͫ̄̇̒̏ ͉̖̱̮̼̦̝̒́͒͛̈́͝w̦̲̟̭̹̘ͫ͛̽̔ͪ̚h̠̳̗͐͝ǫ̠̟̭̻͓͔̰ṩ̿͆̏̽ͯ̌e̸͙̫̝̤͔ ̗̞̰̪̯ͮ̾ͣ̚n̥̯̞̓ͤͣ̉ͧ͑̉a̺̻͍̻̮̐̍̎̍̓̔̎m̋͂̉e̤͓̱̤͍̼͛ͦ ̓͌ͦ̾̌҉̪̗̼iͩͭ͜s͒͠ ͇̟͙̱̱̅͆w̸̪̹̻͎̏̅̇r̨̘̘̙͖̥͕̅ͯi̯͞ͅt̰̳̖̒̐̂tͥ̽ͨ̀ȩ͕̀͋ͮ̾͛̆ͭn̲̭̤͖ ̢̗͍̃̃ͥ̉i̞͈͖̫̪̿̊̓͛̈̾ň͚̳̞̩ ́̈́̐̄̿͜ẗ̡̠̖̞̽ͮͪ̓̀̚h̼͓̃̔͌͆̚i̼͍͆ͤͦs̗͇͋̂̐ ͡n̢͎̼̰̒ö̪̦̹̦̫̹́̓͋̅̅ͅt̻̮̟̖͍͎ͧͯ͋ͨͣe͚͕̜̩͚̺͓ͮ̊̐̏ ̨̱̳̩̦͑̋͛̊̍s͍͖͍͔ͦ͌̔̌͑͂̔h̝͚̫͙͇̦͈͑̂̿̂ͪã̆l̈ͨl̨̤̝̘̰͋̉ͪ͐ ̗̣̬̪͇̎͟ḓ̱̬̬͓̩̘͂͋͐̀i͎͉̒͌̅͌͊ͦ͌͟e͓̪̙̬̖̳ͣ.̠̯̬̘͔̗͇̋̾ͬ̿ͮͧ**

̶̻̖̝̲̉ͩ͋͛ͦͣ͌·͎̤́ͫͧ̃̔  
 **͔̹̪̟̖͚͕ͣ͊ͭͤ͐ͩ́̚·̱̠̳͕͔͒ͫ̅ͅ ͖T̂̈́ͪ͆̕h̙̬̺̾̊i̥̱̱͍͛s̖̙̦͈̲̪ͧ ͈͈̈ͯ̈́n͈͕̹̾̏̇̿̈̒o̧̘̞̜̔ͭ̊͗ͬ̌ͥͅte͎̔ͤ̊͑ ̧̫̺̣̊ͤ̓̄̓͒w̛͔̹̱̦̆͛̃ͮi̘̻̓̓̾̔ͥ͛̈͜l̤͙͉̟̮̎́́̈́̓̃͠l̞͈̞̥̫̈́͗ ̹̯̤̱̦̪͓̔ͯ̽ͬ͆̑̃́n̑̽ò̳̲͖̝̰̠ͣt̙͚͊͆ͤ̕ͅ ̤̯̙̮̦̑͒̂́ͬt͐ä̝̫̹̲̺̱̦͛ͫ̒̆̎̅̕k̗ͣe̞̎ͦͧ͂̐͐̓ ̙̱̼̗̝͉ͫ͐̀ͦẹ̢̥̫̑̏̿̐̀̈́f̄ͨ̽ͦ͆͡f̔̎̂͗̚ḛ̻͍̰̍ͤ̈c̛ͥ́ͅt̲̞ͨ̽ͤ̅̔͟ ͓̺̈͋̌ͧͤͭͪͅŭ̬̼͚̬̙͖͌́͂̉̑n͇̜̹͓̣̦ͥ̎͂͆ͅl̰̤̖̞̻͚͛ȩ̃ͮ̈́ͭş͖̮̿̏ͪ̏͌sͪͫͬͣ̀ͩ̿ ̧̤̟̩͖̥̓̑̀̿̉̎ṫ̨͍͌ͬ̅̔̓ĥ̴͓͎̝̲̋͊ͥ̽̋͛eͥ̃ͦ͑ ̠̲̟̠͈͖w̧̫̬̯̋̾̏ȓi͓͖̦̖͐t̷̯͕̮̲ͩ͒ͮͬ͌e̲̳̪̓͐̇̋ȑ̸̦̞̲ ̺͖͇̪̬͍͍͋͑̾́ͥ̍h̬͉͉̰̗́̂̋̒͂a͊ͩͮ̒̂̋͒͏̲̘͎͍̣ͅsͮ̍ ̔̔̔̀t̗̙̰h̠̞̟̝̭̬ͨ̾̋̽ͪe̬̞̺ͭ͐̓̀ ̶͖̫̍͆ͬ̈́̎̚pͪͥ̂҉̰̤̙̖ͅé̩͎̩͓̻̱r̜̩̣̰̪̘̯̊ͪ̈ͪ͐́s̐̃͋̒̕o̶̥̮n̻̻̱̤̼̬ͅ'̥̦̅̾̀ͦ͌̾́s̞̰͛ͧ͋͋ͪ̇͊ ̨̳̮̗̬͍ͧ̐ͤ͆͊ͫf̬͈͈ả̗̲̦̗̲̹̘͂̍̈́̀c̶͉̳̪͙̟͚̞̅͊̾̃̀̒ͫè̄̈ ̎͂̽̄͑͑̚͏̠̱̪̱i̡̜̮͙̊̑̿̀ͭ̍͛n͚̥̗̺̝̥̓̍̽̔ͭ̾ ̥̠͈ͫ̏̀ͯ̽̂t̞̦͋̎̄̎̓́hͩ̀ͦ̈̐ͤͫ͞è͉̫̺̘̲͙̑͑ḭ̩̻̬̑̇ͯ̇̿̅͐ř̪͖̪̪̳̱͟ ̨̙ͮm̶̳͐ͫ͋ͥ͊̚i̜͈̥ͯ͊̄ͨ̈́̇n̮̭̠͇̤̗̫̂̈́ͬ͂d͍͇̦̎͛ͪ͡ ̰̣̻̞̅̽̔́ͩw̩̗̲̄͌h̠͚ȇͫͭ͐͌n͕̙̝͈͚͕̝͒̀̏ͩͥ ͖̞͉̤̦͙ͯ̋ͧͅŵ͆̃̍̊r̛̲̠̺̘͚̎̽͆̂ͫͩͫi̅̋̔̿̈́ͯ҉̗̻͈̝̼̣t̥͙̓̇ͅi͊͛̔̒̌ͥͩņ̱̥̭͎͊͆͊g͖͚̪̥͙͇͈͋͞ ̏̒̽ͥ͆̋ͣ͞h͉̫͇̗ͣ̾̌ͦ̿i̗̥̤̭̰̼̰̒̍̈ͭ̑ͧs̵̭̏̾̓͒̐/͕̠̻͔̭̠̺ͮ̒ͬͭͭ̐̽͡h̵̹͕̼̣̰ͯ͛e̘̻̝̬̳ͬͦ̅r̒̋ͯͪ͌͏̠̠̫̥ ̰̻́** **n̖̅́̽́́̅̇a͓̗̋ͫm̷̯̔̑̾̒e̲̍̃ͨ̐ͥ̚.̣̪̹͖̅̾͝ ̔ͩ̋͑̾҉̦T̥̱͚͈͐ͦ̆̊͑ͧ̿͠h̺̦̩̺͓̏͑͗e̒͛̚͟r͎̪̺̳̾̂̏̊͛̂͗e̢͚͔̬̹͓̅ͥ̅ͅf̒͏̦̹̣͚͍o͐ͭȓ͕̼͕̝̲͂̑́́e̸͓͙ͩ͂̓̍,̸̗̣̖̩͓̙ ͚͎̗̝͔̪̍̌̅ͮ̄̉ͬp͖̰͍̤ë́̏͑͊ͯ͠ò͂̓͌ͯp̞̤̜̰̦̯̥ͣͣ͟l̘ͥ̔̋ͨe̴̻̲̳ ̢̼͛͋͋͛̎͊̿s̛h̎ͨ̽͋̅͂ͩạ̞͈r͙̬̟̦̞̔ͬͨ̏͟i̴͙̟̙ͩ̃ͭn̬̟͛g̞͕̺̞̯͑͊̀ ͚͍̯̗̾̅ͧ̌ͤ͑ͅt̞̯̦̞̮ͭͫ̑̓h̢̻̽̍e̞̳͙̖̮̰̗̋̄̊ ̶͇̰͔͕͐s̍̓̒̂a̫̮̬̣̪͋ͩ̊̈ͭ͆m̂̊ͦͧͪ͊ͭeͥ͗ͫͦͩ́͝ ̨̰͕̹̯̖̩͕ń͌̔ͯͫ҉̬̜̼̹a̡͊ͮ͑ͧm͇̩͕͙͇̖̿͛ͧͯͪ̈ͬe̝̬͇͐͆̌̄̾͢ ̝̠̥̙̗̗ͭͪͩ̓̅̃̓͘w̴̟̲̗̳̒͆͌̉ͧ̒i̪̬̗̜̫̪̳ͨ̍̆ͯ̂͒͐ḷ̝̒̋ͬ̾͌̓ļ̰̠͚̠̯̟̤ͪ ̲̠̹̣͈̙̀͛̽̈̍̑n̲͔̓ͤ̋ͨ̽o̯͉̥͘t͇͉̣̆̃ͣͪ͌͊ͅ ̧͍̬̻̙̥̙̺ͭb̵͖̜ͮͩ̑́̔̂ͤȩ͕̬̙ͅ ̺̯̦̣̦ͤ̔̑̐͢a̶̰̐̇͆̇ͤ̉f̻͍̀͜f̩̰̲̗͖͚̯ͧ̅̊̈́e̲̗̺̲̘̟̩̒͐ͣͩ̃̀̚čͪͬͫͧͭ͘t͉̪͇͚̝̺͕ͦȇ̤̲̝̯͉͍ͣ͐̈́d̴̺͈͔̼̬ͪͤ̋.̱͉͍̻̗ͮͥ̊ͅ  
**  
 **͉̳̦̙̟͍̓̒͊ͪͦͅ·̟̐̒ͤ̄̏**  
 **̶̌́̄ͯ͗͗ͮ·̥̳͞ ̫̬̣͖͟I̱̲ͪ̓ͯ̑̍͆̽f̝ͦͣͦ̂ ̥͓ͭt͎͔̤͕̂̀ͣͮ̌͊̚h̪̱̱̙̗ͣ̔̓ͤ̍̚͞e͔̗̜͇ͨ ͚̩̂̍ͩ̄͑c̟̠͓̮̱ͧ̓̄̉͛̾ͩḁͮ̓̅ͭ̈́̏̕ụ̴̜̺͈̑̔ͧs̑̃ͪ͏̘e͓̻͎͓̗̪͋̅ͯ̓͞ͅ ̯̮̥̠͝o̧͓̫̻̤͎̩̅ͩͭ̐̓͐̚f̭͖̤̺̺̺̼ͬͫ̊̊̎ͧͯ ͯd́ͣe̟̠̪̻͎̠̱͛̽a̴̠̞͌ͦ͌̀̏́̈́t̴͓̝̹̣̥̠̯̃ͩ͆̀̑̆h̶͎̭͔͂̾̓̾ ̴̗̠̟̭̣̝͍ͥ͒i̗̮̲̗̤͍s̽̑ͣͯ͒͑͒͠ ̶͎̞̹̻͎̰ͥ̂̌̆̈w̲̰͈͖͒́͊ͦ̚ṟ͛ͨ̇̿͘i͙͇͎̫̬t͔̼͈̓͛̓̊̈ͅt̳͔̱͈ͮ̽͊ͪͥ̽e̱̩̭̦̘̝͈ͩͦ̄ͬ͟n͈̠ ̢̬͔̩͙̊̿̒̄ẅ̤̲́ìt̪̙̯̼ͣͦͤ̈́̐̓hͥͪ҉͍̩ͅi̶̝̺̻̬ͫ̍ͬ̇ͮͅͅň̮ͬͫͦ̅͡ ͍̹̲̲͌ͮ́ͧ̅͟4͎͚̥͎̑̈́͝0̥̥̻ͮ́̍̓̏ ̺̲̳͗s͂̒̋͆̂eͭ̊̊҉c̵̖̦̞̮̒̄̇̐ͪͬo̱̞̟͐̀̂̌͗n͔̋̒̅͠d̬̘̖̤̕ͅs̨̩̻̓̒ ̴̼̤͎ͥṑ̧͙̠̅̋̄͒f͒ͥ̂̅̃͑ ̵̠̖͉̜̎ͩͦͅt̵̟̬̼̔̃͋̿̇̎h͚̫̾̆ẽ̼͔̯̂ ̵͉̞̘̙̘ͨ̅p̺̩e͎͈̯͉̣͇r̫̱̅̿ͨͩͯ̽s̯̰̞̣̹̹͂o̤̳ͦ̇̃̄ͩn̼ͨ̿ͮ̓͋̽'͖̟̦̘̙͉ͨͥͤ͢ṡ̰͎̫̲̉ͪ ̤̉̿ͥͬͪ̚n̖̩̥ͮͪͫ̍ͥa͗ͭ̓̎ͨ̾͜m̰̍̏́͌͌͜e͍̪̠,̛̣̥̩͐ ̂̎́i͖̫̙̞͔̲̎ͤͫͬ̀͠t̵ͫ̓ ̓̄̓̅w̡̺ͫ̂̋̅͋̽ï̘̹̩̭̼̲l̒ͤ̊͋ͨͤ̕l̘͇̘̔̑ͭ ̶̜͎̞̟̯̪͔͐̎ͬ́͌h̰̠̣̩̔ͩ̽ͯá̹͈̣̥̠ͪ̏ͩ͌͡p̸̜̟ͩ̋̓p̞͚̄̔̕e̢͐̾̈ͭn̳ͫͥ̅̋.̠̺͍̱̲ͣ̔̔͝**  
 **̡̹͎̤̹̲̲·̝͇̄ͯ̆̐̎̈̚**  
 **͕̩̤̝̫ͮ̍̈́·̪̲̀͆**  
 **̐͡·̨̤̝͍̳̰͇̺ ̤͎̠̩̭̿̂I̥͙̩͎̰͍͐f̔͏ ̠̦͓̠͐̑ṱ̸͔̫ͧ̄̎h̝͕̰͙͕ͫ̇̌ͤ̀ẽ͈̬̝̻̪͉̈ͭ͆ ̤͍̝͋c͙͖͇̿͜a̧̘ͤ͐̾ͭͣ̎ͭu̷͖̻̻͍͍ͤ̔̋͐s̬̩̘̑͊ͮͅe̶͈̫̘̥͙̱͕͆̊̽̑ͪ̚ ̟̦̩̜̫̓̆͝o̺͕͎̭͇̩̍̊͂̋̇͊̈͠f͙͔̆̈ͨͅ ̧̺̝͖̥̃̾ͨ͑̚d̗̻̗̪̠e̬̪̝̜͔̻̽̎ͬ̅̎̾a͚̬̗̖̫̟ͪ̓̌̓͒t̫ͪ̉͆ͮ͘h̯͎͖̣̮̥̄̂́ ͙̫̖̖̣̤͕́͂͊̈ḯ͗s̨̎ ̰̳̩̘͙͆ͫͨ͡n͍o̗̖̙̊͂̉̃͗̓̕t̹̣̱̻̹͗̂ͣ ̩̿̃̉͒̇͛s̭̠̖̳̫̿͗͂ͯ̚͘p̸̻̞̣͉̐ͩͧeͯc̶̙̟̹͎̳͆̆̆͑̍ͅͅi̠̠̜̮̪f̂̂i̥̥̠̯͓̙ȇ͓̮d͆ͬ͐̃͆͏͙̫̭̮,̸̬̱̪̫͉̰͆͒̔̃ ̜̬̖̬̥̈́̅ͥ͛̉t͖͕̉ͩh̎̍ͭe̙̻̲̖̞̙̝ͥ̓ ̠̤̎̀p̓̈̎ͫ͆ê̙͇̖̝̘̑̂r̦̟̖̘̮̹̂̅̄́sͫͯ̉̒͗̈o̯͓̪̙ͬ̉ͭ͌n͐̌ͦ͒̽̚͏͚̪͇͙̙ ̣̈́͊w̙̼͇͔̯ͥ̏̐ͪ͛͘ỉ͕͈̹͍̝̼̤ͮ́̑ļ̱̥̥̗̲̱͂̌̌̅͒̽l̴̦̞̣͍ͭ͆̃̍̉ ̽͊si̞̝̗̬͕̹ͫ̽͋̆͘mͬ̈ͧ́p͖͉̩̗̬ͩ̾̇ͬ͌͋l̵͓̳ͧy͉͓͙̙̗͒͑ͮ̃̾ͯͬ ̤̳̯͈̖̥ͤ̓̆̃̊ͧ̚͘d͎̖̻͐ͭͮͬ̃ͥ̚ͅi̽e̹ͣ̍̌̍̌́̚ͅ ̴̥̾ͨ̿͂̊ͩ̋o̪̝͑̍f̼̱͖̯̪̤ͬ͐ͭ̏̚ ͭ̇͂̎a͍̥̬̫͊̉͠ ͣ̎̉ͫḥͥ̾̾̊e̫͈͔͈̔ͥͮ̚ḁ̮̽̂̐̉r̭͑̉t͇̪̻̭̗̹̦̆̀̓̓͂͑̐ ̶͎̤̗̈́͋ͯͧà̹̱̩͎̰̅ͅṭ̢ͬ̿̏̆ͨt̟̟͇͍ͥͅá̓͏̯͚c̷̰̪̳̝̾̔ͩ͒̚k̠̱̫͓͖̠̐̐͆̍̈́̉̚.̿̅̎͞**  
 **̧̰͔͚̺͇͌̒͒ͦ̾·̱́**  
 **̦͔̟̯̫̥ͮ̓͝·̷͕̺̦͈̭͍̓̈ͅ**  
 **̧̜͖̩͈͓̤̤̆ͩͧ·͚͉̗̖̜̇́̒̽͛ ̱͍̠̦̲̆̉͂̾́A̧̘͕̯̦̝̣̥͂̆̈́̓ͬ̓ͫḟ̠̳͇͍̈ţͮe̝̭̻̖͙͚̜͂̉͆̒r̭̙̰̬̺̜̼͐̏̾̍̊͝ ̬̘̞̼͖̣̼̊̏͢ẃ̱̹̘̄̓͐ͣ͑r̯̤͇̟̗̖͇ͥ̓͛̂͛ͦi̲͈̤̅̎̓ͫ͠t̼͂͂͐̈́ͤi͑ͮͮ͐ͩ̀ň͈̄ͧ͐gͪ̎ ̗̼͕ͧ͌̏͑́t̴̉͐̓̑h̼e̬̗̲̼̙͎̽͆̒ͬ̃̐ͨ͟ ͙̗͍̤ͅc͕͎ͤ̅̈̎͑͋͂ͅa̔̈̓̔u̮̳̥̞͔͙ͩ̿͋s̳̹̫̜̎̌̏ͤè͙̭̻̓́̀̏̿̾ ̯͈͍̦̜̄o̾̋͊̔̓̀̓f̆ͥͦ̎͌̑̚ ̛̖͕̖͚dͨe͎̬̺̒ͩ̃ͯͦ̚͡å̛̭̮͕̭̫͑̍ͬͥͯ̊t̷͖͔̗̪̟̺ͩ̏ͮͪ͑h͙͊̔͌̚͡,̒͐ͫ̓̅ ̮̘͚̈ͣ̒ͩͤd̜̟ͨ̓̄͒ͫe̹̥͇̦ͫ̊͗͒́ͅt̬̪̜̟̭ǎͣͨ̈iͣ̽̈̾͐ͤ͊l̹͖͑̊ͦ̄̍̄̏s̗͙͔̙̭̒͑ͪ̏͑̀̽͞ ̻̠͍̉ͪ̊ỏ̳͖̞̖͉̝̹ͦ̉f̴͖̳̔̀̚ ̨̬̂ͥͣ̐ṭ̪͇͚̱͕͐ͣ̒͆͆͡ḫ̩͖̮͇ͬ̉e͙͙͓͎̗͇ͤ ̟̱́͆̄̍ͬ̈́d̻͍̞̞̹̮̯͡ȩ̟͔a͍̹̖̬̞̯͐͑t̼̾̍̎̉̊ͧh̸̲̝̞ͨ̉̉ ̮̰̠͉̐̑ͣͦ̅̉́s͉̤̯̹̣͐̏̓͊͊͂̄͠ḥ̥̥̤̻ͩͭ̍ͯȯ̶̽ͣü͕͇̝̥l̔͢d̼̗͓̻̫̟͈̔ͩ̈ͬ ͙̤̱̺̻̠̫͞b̬̆ͮ̋ͭ̀e̸̮͕͗͛̊ͪ̀́ ̖ͮ͛̄͒̅̈wͮ̏̈̇̈́ͪr̤̉ͤ͂̒̌ͩ̚i͕̻̜̦̟̥ͪ̈́ͪ͆͟ṯ͈̤̬͚̜͕́͂ͫ͋̓̚ẗ̮͕̮́͐ͩḛ̢͚͙̤͕̻̾͗͛̍ͫ͐ň̻̺̼̐ͅ ͖̮i̢͓͙̼͙͉͒̇͆ͬn̶̈̃͛́̃ͤͤ ̱̫̯̻͛͑͋ͫ̈̈ͅt̥̱͎͇̖̂ͭ͒̑̒͠h̴͈̓̒́e̹̣̺̫̥ͤ̚ ̟ͯ̒͝n̡͇̹̺ͭͥe͖̝̓̎̈́x̖͌̆̊ͫ̃̆t͚̐́ ͋̈́6̮ͩ ̵̞̗̹̰̟͔̹͐̇̓̎̇̉ͨm̙͈̯̺ȋ̤̣͙͕̰́͑̾̇ͯ̾͠ṋ̮̻͈̼͓̥ͤ̽̌ͪͩͦ̒u̙̦͘t̝̺̭̖̟̍ͧ̀e̺̗̘̠͍ͫͣ͑̊́ͅs̙̼͚͇͖̩͆̊̈ͬ̓ ̱̿ͨ̏a̹͎̼̖̙ņ̪̙̥͙̃ͤ̋͗ͬͥ̚d̬̭̩͉̖̮͇̉ͧ͛̓ ̃͛̃̌4̩ͣͧ0̡̬̣̙̽̑ͥ͂ ̜̳͋̉͌̂́͋͗s̟̫͚̰̥̼̏̏͐ͥ̀̀e̫̥̼̭͝c̰̗͇̥͌̊̈́̈́̌o̦͇͕̾͐͠ͅn͔̈͆d҉̙̜̼̟s̠͊̋̇.̱̺͙̞̦̃̽̓ͤ**

 **·̨̤̝͍̳̰͇̺ ̤͎̠̩̭̿̂**

* * *

And it just went on and on.

And on.

Pages and pages of it.

The sword-like claws of dread were running Ajin through again.

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against her knees, her fingers slowly working their way in to tug at her hair.

"It's not real," she whispered like a prayer, and rocked forward— "Not real…" —then back— "Not real…" —forward— "Not real…" —and back again.

When she could no longer stand the ringing silence and nothing to fill it but her own crazed mutterings, she fumbled blindly for the remote, sucking in a shuddery breath when her fingers brushed crisp pages and she felt the pad of her middle finger split right open. The edges of that paper were unusually sharp, she thought as she reached with her other hand, sucking on the papercut and tasting the metallic flood of coppery blood bursting upon her tongue.

When the TV flickered on, Ajin almost jumped at the abrupt sound of news anchor prattling on about one thing or another. This was odd, because she rarely watched the news if she could help it; it must have been left on that channel from the last time Light was over. It seemed that something horrible was always happening somewhere in the world, and even at the risk of ignorance Ajin hated listening to it. She usually got her newsfeed from Light, which was okay because, oddly enough, it felt alright to discuss horrible things with him. Just listening to him talk about making a difference someday made her feel somehow less helpless about it all.

" _Yes, this just in—we have received confirmation that the British embassy has been infiltrated by the terrorist sect known as Almawthu Alhaqiqa._ " The live news castor stood in front of a crowded intersection packed with frantic people. " _Madam Ambassador Jennings has undergone much controversy in the past for her Leftist dealings in Egypt, and it appears to have caught this sect's attention. Leader, Malik Salib has released yet another video detailing conditions for the Ambassador's release, though the finer points of this video have been withheld from the media as of yet due to the…_ "—the journalist adjusted his grip upon his microphone, looking thoroughly disquieted— "… _disturbing and graphic nature of the contents. To protect the integrity of Madam Jennings and her family, these videos will not be released to the public now, nor ever…_ " The reporter swallowed thickly, visibly disturbed, though he bravely soldiered on with, " _Nevertheless, we will continue to offer live coverage as events unfold throughout the night…_ "

Ajin felt sick and reached for the remote to change the channel, but paused as the world news channel flashed to an info panel, detailing the images of Malik Salib and other known associates from the terrorist sect. According to the news anchor at the station, research gathered suggested that the sect targeted the British ambassador largely due to the fact she was a woman. And not only that, but she was a woman with an unapologetic liberal viewpoint—a visionary, even. And right then, at that very moment, she was being held hostage by a man who hated and feared her for those very reasons, enduring God-only-knows-what…

Ajin didn't notice when the hand that once hovered over the remote moved to hover over the Death Note instead… And strangely enough, the horrible chill she felt whenever she touched the thing seemed fractional in the face of her building horror and urgency at what she was learning now on the news. Slowly, she dragged the black book off the coffee table, and into her lap, flipping through the rules almost obsessively until she was sure she had them practically memorized. Or had she known them before she even opened the book? That black hole inside of her was gaping wider and whispering strange, fantastical things—horrible, wicked, ugly things—she had no idea she was capable of imagining.

And that raised the question…was she even imagining any of it at all?

Before Ajin really knew what she was doing, she had a pen pressed so harshly into the first lined page of the Death Note, she was afraid that she might rip right through it. Blood from the papercut welled up from the pressure she was exerting on it and dripped sluggishly down the pen onto pristine white.

Ajin Nou had always been a creature of Impulse.

And something as powerful as the Death Note held a Compulsion that she was utterly _helpless_ to resist.

She was doomed from the moment she saw it fall from the sky.

* * *

 **interLude**

By the next morning, news stations were ranting about the bizarre events that went on inside the British embassy in Cairo. Nobody on the inside could explain what happened with any sort of consistency—not even Ambassador Jennings, who was making an admirable recovery from her shattering ordeal. She kept up a strong face in front of the media while giving her statements, though it was notable that the smile she was so well known for was conspicuously absent. It would be a long time yet, and then some, before its return…

" _I was raised an Anglican Catholic,_ " she testified to the press. " _I've always believed in a higher power, even when…" —_ She paused with a strange, distant look on her face, taking on an eerie stillness while gathering her thoughts, crumbling away at her otherwise convincing façade— "… _even when my faith was pushed to the very edge._ "

" _But what I saw in that place…was no act of God._ "

At that very moment, thousands of miles away, in the attic of a sprawling, stately mansion, a young man sat in the dark. What could be seen of him was illuminated only by the low, artificial light of a computer screen, upon which, he watched the Ambassador's soon-to-be infamous statement. His wide, dark-ringed eyes were transfixed. He sat with one knee bent, drawn up to his chest, and the other sprawled out beside him, watching—always watching—with a single-minded concentration.

Slowly, he brought a thumb to his lips and bit down on his nail in what could only be…

… _anticipation_.

* * *

 **The game is afoot!**

 **And all the players are accounted for...sort of.**

 **Lots of hints and foreshadowing this chapter. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I know not everyone is fond of OCs, but I've been trying to make Ajin at least bearable for you guys, if not somewhat entertaining and interesting to read about.**

 **On another note, does anyone else wish they could train their body to subsist off sugar and disregard the need for sleep? It doesn't exactly sound pleasant, but to be honest, there's so many things I'd rather do than sleep. Like writing this story! But I can't, and I'm sad... :( And I have to work tomorrow, which makes me even sadder, because it's like...4:00 in the morning, and that gives me about six hours of rest before I have to go and face the music. BUT, if I could somehow master the L-method, that wouldn't be a problem, and I'd be able to get twice as many chapters out!**

 **(Is it pathetic that I'd use L's super powers to write more fanfiction? Yes. Maybe. Don't judge me.)**

 **BIG THANK YOU TO bookbabe711, AkiraYuni, AND Yuki Suou FOR REVIEWING!**

 **PS: This chapter has been edited.**

 **Because Zalgo text.**


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